


Sammy's Kisses (Taste Like Pumpkin Spice)

by HandsAcrossTheSea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, M/M, Pre-Series, Rimming, Stanford Era, Top Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-28
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 20:43:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1061410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandsAcrossTheSea/pseuds/HandsAcrossTheSea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean visits Sam at Stanford for Thanksgiving</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [waterbird13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/waterbird13/gifts).



> For Alicia, who I love and adore with all of my heart. If you're not reading "Writing Our Own Vows," you should be. Out of all the fics I've written, this is probably the one that comes most from the heart.

The big green sign indicating that he’d just crossed over from Oregon to California passed by in a blur, Dean’s foot firmly on the accelerator and Def Leppard blaring from the speakers.  He’d left John behind in a small cabin near the coast, nursing a broken leg and what was likely a concussion, both of them having come off a wendigo hunt up in the northern part of the state.  It was the week of Thanksgiving, and Dean really didn’t want to play nursemaid to John, not when he had what was almost surely a solid month or two of waiting for him to recover.  And John Winchester when he was hurt like that well, he was a bastard if Dean was being frank with himself.  That and Dean has been butting heads with him way too often lately to warrant sticking around, not when John could kill a werewolf in his sleep (which Dean was sure had happened before.) 

            Instead, Dean has made sure that his dad would be alright while he recuperated and slipped out while John as passed out from painkillers, leaving a note saying that he was heading south.  John could figure out what heading south into Cali meant, more specifically a town called Palo Alto, where a certain younger brother lived.

            A certain younger brother who Dean couldn’t wait to see again.

            Kicking up the volume a little more, Dean sang along to “Love Bites,” tossing his head back a little with the line “I don't wanna touch you too much baby, 'cos making love to you might drive me crazy.”

            Ironic, Dean thought to himself after the song finished, because right now all he wanted right then was touch Sam, and touch Sam a lot. 

            It was still four hours to Palo Alto and Dean was determined to make it by nightfall, the vision of shaggy brown hair and deep dimples keeping him focused on the asphalt in front of him.

.  .  .

            Tuesdays were Sam’s favorite night of the week, for two reasons.

            One, he didn’t have class on Wednesdays until noon which meant he got to sleep in until eleven if he wanted.  Two, it was dollar taco night at his favorite bar, called The Governor after one of California’s foremost politicians (and Stanford University’s founder, Leland P. Stanford.)  Sam sat down his bookbag on the end of his bed and pulled out his cell phone, searching through his contacts to see if anyone else wanted to go with him.

            After ten minutes of calling around he’d gotten in touch with Matt, Derek, and Jess, agreeing to meet him at 7 for beer and tacos.  Sam had been craving it all day, especially tonight since he didn’t have class again until Monday – he could enjoy his time with his friends as long as he liked.  He looked at the clock on his desk, noticing it was almost six already.  No harm in getting cleaned up a little before going out, especially since Jess had been making eyes at him for a week now and he kinda liked it, that little bit of attention that said “I’m noticing you because I think you’re funny and handsome” and not “I’m looking at you because you’re freakishly tall and are afraid you might knock me over.”

            The trouble was, Sam only had eyes for one person.  A certain person who tended to wear a worn leather jacket with the collar popped up and refused to move his taste in music past 1989.  Sam smiled and shook his head, wondering when he fell so head over heels for Dean.

            Then again, that wasn’t such a bad thing, now was it?

            Sam stripped off his sweatshirt and t-shirt, gathering up his shaving kit and walking to the bathroom area in the middle of his suite, flipping the light on and starting the hot water running.  He let his eyes drift over his form, proud of the muscle he’d been putting on lately, the light dusting of hair beneath his navel a little darker than normal.  He thought he looked good, tight but not too tight jeans hugging his hips, waistband of his dark green American Eagle boxers (a splurge yes but dammit he had wanted nice underwear for once) peeking out over the top of his belt, inviting the eye to look further and harder at him – what would Dean say if he knew that there were so many eyes on him whenever he went out with his friends?’

            Well, Dean wouldn’t actually say anything, just lay his hands possessively on him and growl “mine” into Sam’s ear.  The mere thought of the way Dean said that, all low and hot and unfairly erotic had Sam going from soft to semi-hard so fast that he thought he was going to pass out from the blood rushing south so quickly.

            It was also then that he realized just how much he missed Dean, and not just his sexy voice.

            Refusing to let the malaise of his absent brother overwhelm him, Sam set about shaving his face, mind drifting back and forth between thinking about juicy tacos stuffed so full that they fell apart and Dean’s hands roaming over his body, touching and teasing and making him want more and more.

.  .  .

            So far as a college bar went (and Dean had been in his fair share over the years) this one wasn’t actually that bad.  It almost looked like it was once a gentleman’s club of some sort, the walls done in dark woods, surprisingly unmarked by scratches and blemishes, indicating that there must not have been too many bar fights going on, and the smell of smoke wasn’t terribly prominent – Dean didn’t mind that at all really.  His answer to that question came when he saw a sign indicating that the smoking area was out back through a large wooden door – all the better to take in the smell of what smelled like high-class booze, Dean eying the bottles on the wall behind the bartender, a pleasant looking guy in his late 50s, looking more like he should be a butler rather than serving drinks to college students. 

            Dean eased himself onto one of the stools at the bar, seeing Sam sitting across the room with his back to him, shoulders relaxed and his body shaking gently with laughter.  It was too noisy to hear over the din of the bar but Dean had had that sound memorized forever, along with the way that Sam’s mouth curved into a brilliant as the sun smile.

            He’d be smiling even wider in just a moment. 

            Dean caught the bartender’s eye, watching the man wipe his hands off with a cloth before moving over to where Dean was sitting and asking what he could get him.

            Dean congratulated himself internally for his brilliance as he said “Strawberry daiquiri, a big one.  And if I could get someone to take it to the Sasquatch over there, the one with long brown hair.  Tell him that Agent Plant sent it, he’ll know what to do.”

            The bartender smiled and shook his head.  “I’m guessing you know Sam?”

            Dean’s smile dimmed a little as he looked down at the worn bar top.  “Yeah, a long time now.”

            “You must be Dean.”  Ron, as Dean found out he was called, got out the stuff for the drink Dean had ordered, making it with an amused smile on his face.

            Dean looked up and narrowed his eyes.  “Yeah, that’s me.  Sam can’t keep his mouth shut can he? Can’t blame him really.”  Dean puffed out his chest a little, making sure Sam’s back was still to him.

            “He’s mentioned you a few times, always really fondly.  He… tends to get loud after a few drinks and your name has come out on occasion.  Generally in terms of, and I quote ‘Dean’s the best I’ve ever had and I miss him like crazy.’  That was after the end of finals earlier this year.  I’d say you got a keeper there Dean.”

            Dean flushed crimson and suddenly found that looking down at his hands was pretty damn interesting.  “Fuckin’ big mouth…”  Dean couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection and suddenly wanted to go to Sam right then and there, damn the entrance he was planning on making him.

            He just hoped Ron finished making that daiquiri soon.

.  .  .

            Sam felt good, loose limbed and smiling, happy without having to think about why he was happy..  He knew it was partially the alcohol but he had suddenly remembered that he didn’t have class again until Monday and that pleased him.  He knew it wasn’t much but at the same time it was something to look forward to, and Jess had agreed to spend the holiday with him since she couldn’t go home this year. All in all things were looking up just a little and he couldn’t complain, no matter how badly he wanted to be with his family.

            Sam was about to relay a joke he’d heard the other day when Melinda, the server, came to their table, brandishing a round tray with a very tall, very pink daiquiri.  Sam looked up at her, still laughing a bit, words slightly slurred as he asked “Think you got the wrong table Mel.”

            Melinda smiled fondly, gaze flicking over Sam’s rosy cheeks.  “No Sam, this is for you.  An… Agent Plant sent it?”  Melinda set the drink down on the table in front of Sam and stepped aside.  It took exactly two seconds for Sam to scan the bar and find who’d sent it, cocky grin curling around a freshly opened Sam Adams, leaning against the bar with one hand in the pocket of his jacket, looking like he’d just won the fucking lottery, all because he was simply in the same room as Sam again.

            Sam’s face went from surprise to outright joy, his smile growing wider as he got up from the chair (totally not stumbling, no matter what Dean would later tell him) and like an iron pulled to a magnet Sam was walking towards Dean, arms already outstretched, Dean setting his beer on the bar and meeting Sam halfway, his body humming with the desire to be near Sam again, only for a moment later to be completely engulfed in outsize little brother, long arms going around him and pulling him tight, Sam’s face sinking into Dean’s shoulder, rocking him a little bit, Dean closing his eyes and resting his chin on Sam’s shoulder, resisting the urge to press a kiss to his neck, instead breathing in deep through his nose, the overwhelming scent of some vaguely fruity shampoo and the smell of old books hitting him, a scent so familiar to Dean that it opened up the spaces in his soul that only Sam could feel, simply by embracing him in and breathing, feeling like it was the first time he’d done so in a long time, Sam the oxygen his lungs had been so loudly crying for.

            Dean was aware of the fact that he was in the middle of a crowded bar and there certainly were a few eyes drifting their way but he just didn’t care.  He had been fucking waiting for too damn long to not let himself have this, have Sam back with him, in him, around him, breathing the same air and sharing the same space.  Dean couldn’t help himself as he moved a hand down further and pressed it to the small of Sam’s back, pressing their hips together and fuck if it wasn’t perfect, lining up perfectly, like they were made for no one else but the other.  Dean could feel the bulge of Sam’s cock against him, getting harder simply from Dean touching him and honestly Dean couldn’t blame him – he’d started getting aroused the moment he set eyes on Sam when he sat down at the bar, craving Sam’s touch on his body.

            Sam finally lifted his head from Dean’s shoulder and wiped at the corners of his eyes, gently slapping Dean on the chest, his voice a little unsteady as he spoke.

            “Could have told me you were coming Dean.”  Sam smiled and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, Dean’s eyes a dark jade as he held his gaze.

            “Would have ruined the surprise Sammy.  Now go back to your drink, it’s getting warm.”  Dean tried to nudge Sam away but it didn’t work, Sam clinging all the tighter to him.

            “Sorry Dean – you gotta come with.”  Sam tugged gently at his sleeve, resisting holding Dean’s hand on the way back to his table.  Dean wasn’t gonna tell him that it would have been okay if he had.

            Dean sat down next to Sam, quickly squeezing Sam’s thigh under the table as he pulled up a little closer, Sam dipping his head and smiling as introductions were made, only for Jess and Derek to get up as soon as Sam and Dean had gotten settled.

            “We’ll give you guys some time to catch up, alright?  We’ll see you later Sam.” She threw a wink at Dean and as soon as they were gone Dean turned his full attention on Sam,  his hand disappearing under the table again and rubbing up and down Sam’s thigh, his fingers like a brand going right through to Sam’s skin, already claiming him as his again.

            “Cute friends Sammy.  That girl sucking your dick good?”  Dean made it sound absolutely filthy, and Sam blushed, hard.

            “No… God no Dean.  You know I wouldn’t mess around on you man.”  Sam’s voice was quiet, a little rough from the drinks he’d had earlier.

            “That so?”  Dean leaned in a little more, his breath hot against Sam’s cheek, their knees touching under the table and if Sam didn’t pull away right now he was sure his cock was going to burst through his jeans.

            “’S true.  Y’know I’m just yours Dean, always have been.”  Sam decided fuck it and let Dean’s lips graze over the skin of his neck, drawing a long shudder from his little brother.

            “Me too Sammy.  They want me so bad, all those girls.  But I just tell ‘em about you, about how good you feel inside me, how you fuck me just right.  Get hard just talking about it baby, thinking about you.”  Dean’s voice was gravel rough, that note of lust completely unmistakable.

            Sam had to bite his lip as Dean ran his finger along the inside seam of his jeans, all the way up to where Sam’s cock was throbbing in his jeans, his underwear already soaked through with precome. 

            “Missed you so fucking much Sammy.”  Sam finally gave in and turned his head more, Dean’s lips immediately meeting his, a chorus on ten thousand angels singing in Sam’s brain as Dean’s tongue probed against his lips, seeking permission to enter, Sam opening his mouth and letting Dean in, a benediction to his body that made Sam’s hands scrabble for Dean, one hand gripping Dean’s knee and the other going around his waist, pulling his older brother closer to him, finally starting to feel like he was complete again.

            Dean kissed him as long as was socially acceptable before breaking the kiss.  “Wanna get out of here?”

            Just to be a good sport, Sam downed the daiquiri in one long pull, Dean licking away the remnants from around Sam’s mouth before Sam pulled him up out of his seat.

            It was all Dean could do to settle up the tab before Sam dragged him out of the bar.

.  .  .

            Dean wasn’t about to leave the Impala parked at the bar, not when there was visitor parking near Sam’s dorm where he could keep a better eye on it.  Dean opened the driver’s door, Sam wavering slightly as he ducked into the passenger side, the alcohol in his system making him giddy and handsy, crowding into Dean’s space as Dean started up the car and backed out, one of Sam’s giant hands on his thigh, rubbing up and down and fucking squeezing right at the juncture of his hips, fingertips dangerously close to Dean’s now very, very hard cock – damn his body for getting so aroused just by looking at Sam.

            Sam leaned over and put his mouth right next to Dean’s ear, breath hot and heavy as he growled “Need you.  Fucking need you on your fucking back, legs around my waist.  Gotta get you ready first though.  Gonna use my tongue, lick and lick and lick until that tight little hole is nice and open for me, then I’m gonna fuck you senseless Dean, make you feel so good that you won’t be able to move for hours.”

            Dean had to conjure up every gross image he had on tap to stop himself from coming in his jeans, and even then as he shifted his legs to make room for his erection he felt the slick slide of precome against the inside of his boxers, a wet patch expanding by the second, Sam’s hand still on his thigh, feeling like a brand burning into his skin and claiming him, as if to say “Property of Sam Winchester.”

            “Jesus Sam, you want to run us off the fucking road before we get back to your place?”  Dean tried to inject some seriousness into his voice, but it came out as kind of high-pitched and scratchy, like he wasn’t in complete control of his body at the moment.  Which, if Dean was frank about it, he wasn’t.

            Sam grinned, his eyes a lot more lucid than they should be from drinking so much.  “Couldn’t help myself Dean.  God, still can’t – you have any idea how long it’s been since I’ve had you like this?”  Sam’s voice was quiet, low like it got when he was turned on.

            “Just as long for me baby.”  Dean spared Sam a long glance before turning his attention back to the road, his eyes conveying the weight of his words, letting Sam know that this was it for him, no one else.

            Sam couldn’t help but smile when Dean took one hand off the wheel and tangled his fingers with his, safe and warm and familiar.

.  .  .

            Dean was more or less dragged up to Sam’s room, thankfully devoid of roommates as Sam fumbled with the lock to his door, Dean not helping in the least by grabbing and squeezing his ass and hips, already starting to suck a bruise into Sam’s neck, right where it would be impossible to cover up with anything but a scarf.

            Sam finally got the door open, pulling in Dean with him and slamming the door, hard enough to where dust shook from the ceiling.  Of course, neither of them noticed, especially with the way that Sam had Dean’s arms pinned to the door, his fingers closed tightly around Dean’s wrists, mouths locked together, trying to taste as much of the other as they possibly could.  Sam’s tongue was a blessing, moving along with Dean’s, licking over his lips, teeth, gums, everywhere, like he was trying to recapture some long lost memory to keep with him forever, Dean giving it right back just as good as he was getting, Sam’s body covering his and molding them together through layers of denim and leather.

            Sam finally backed off long enough to get himself undressed with one hand, trying to do the same to Dean with the other.  Dean gently pushed him backwards and less than thirty seconds later they were both naked, desperation and practiced movements finally winning over, subconsciously stepping out of shoes as Sam led Dean backwards toward his bed, pulling him down so hard on the soft mattress that the whole assembly shifted a couple of inches to the left, which of course went completely unnoticed as well.

            Sam reached down and latched into Dean’s hips, gripping him so hard that there were definitely going to be bruises tomorrow (which Dean would wear proudly) and pulling Dean upwards so that he could straddle Sam’s lower body, the amulet hanging loose around Dean’s neck as he curled his body downwards to keep his lips pressed to Sam’s, reaching behind him and stroking Sam’s cock, huge and hard and slick with precome, Sam’s hips bucking upwards every time Dean’s callused palm passed over the ridge of his cockhead.

            Sam broke the kiss and moaned, sucking in air like he was suffocating.  “God Dean – please, need to be inside – God, fuck!”  Dean had twisted his wrist upward, a giving a little extra pressure that he knew Sam loved.

            Dean grinned, Sam feeling the muscles of Dean’s face move against his mouth.  “Gonna do what you promised earlier, get me nice and open with your tongue?”

            “Fuck yeah Dean.  Want you to sit on my fucking face and ride my fucking tongue.”  Sam’s voice was cracking with want, his eyes a lot darker than their normal hazel hues.

            Dean wasn’t about to turn down that opportunity, getting Sam to move downwards as he moved up Sam’s body, gripping the headboard as he spread his legs wide over Sam’s face, more or less squatting.  It wasn’t exactly the sexiest pose in the world but honestly Dean didn’t care, not with the way that Sam reached up and spread Dean even further, first pressing a kiss to Dean’s entrance.

            Dean rested his head against the wall and spoke.  “Cleaned myself real good before I got here Sammy.  Been thinking about this since I got up this morning, knowing I’d be here.  Wanted it so bad baby boy, to feel you again. Fuck Sammy, so fucking ah!’  Sam had cut Dean’s words off by jamming his tongue into Dean, Dean suddenly feeling a lot closer to that blissful edge, Sam moaning into him as he licked into Dean’s body, long, slow swipes over and into him, backing off and speeding up and then repeating all over again, never in the same pattern, Dean’s arms shaking as he held himself up.

            Sam’s efforts got him a steady stream of dirty talk from Dean’s mouth, his voice gravel rough as he rasped. “Fucking hell Sammy, knew you were fucking good at this before but shit, feels so goddamn good, can feel all of your fucking tongue, c’mon baby, harder, yeah, yeah, that’s it Sammy, just like that, just like I like it, fuck Sammy there… fuck…. So fucking good, so fucking perfect shit Sammy need you, need you soon….” And on and on until spit was running down Sam’s chin, his own cock painfully hard and leaking, standing straight up from his body, Dean’s cock equally alive, its heat radiating against Sam’s face.

            Sam grabbed Dean’s sides and more or less threw him down on the bed, Dean landing on his back and Sam surging forward, covering Dean’s body with his, Dean tasting himself on Sam’s tongue and getting even harder, bucking his hips upwards, cocks both precome slick and sliding against each other, Sam’s hands all over him, touching touching touching, trying to get the feeling of Dean back under his skin, Dean who was home, brother, and lover all in one, tongues moving in perfect sync to give each other what they both so desperately needed.

            Dean broke the kiss and looked up at Sam, mouth slightly open, nodding his head to silently say “I’m ready.”  Sam gave him one more quick, bruising kiss before pulling off of him and moving to dig through his bedside table, finding the tube of lube he kept there.  Sam kept his gaze on Dean as he slicked himself up, hand quick on his cock, using the remainder to press two fingers into Dean, Dean holding his legs open while Sam prepped him more, throwing his head back and moaning when Sam’s fingers curled and found his prostate, the sound almost enough to make Sam blow right there and then.

            “That feel good baby?”  Sam pressed down a little more, feeling the hard, swollen knot inside Dean.

            “Shit… God Sammy, yeah, yeah.”  Dean was surprised he managed to sound coherent, given that Sam was currently doing his best to make him come with his fingers.

            “Gonna feel even better in a second Dean.”  Sam leaned forward and gave Dean another kiss, this one slow, warm, completely unlike the nearly violent ones they’d exchanged earlier, a kiss that Sam knew would wreck Dean more than any sort of hard, rushed, contact would.  Dean brought his hands up and cupped Sam’s face, threading his fingers through his hair as Sam reached down and rested the head of his cock against Dean’s hole, Dean’s legs spreading wider as Sam slid in, Dean’s mouth never breaking away until Sam was sheathed in him completely.

            To his credit, Dean only winced a little, wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist after Sam was inside him, both of them breathing heavy and adjusting to the familiar but still incredibly thrilling sensation of being connected like this.  Sam knew it had been a while, could feel how tight Dean was around him, all heat and strength and safety wrapped up into one.

            Sam’s lips never left Dean’s as he asked “How’d you want it Dean – all you have to do is say.”

            Dean smiled, looking into Sam’s eyes.  “Remember that one night in Arkansas, right after you got out of school for the summer?”

            Sam nodded.  “When I could hardly wait to get home to you because I’d been thinking about you all day?”

            “And you made me come just from your cock?”  Dean’s cocked leaked a blurt of precome as he remembered.

            “Fuck yeah I do Dean.”

            “Like that Sammy.”  Dean smoothed a hand down Sam’s back and cupped his ass, pulling Sam even deeper inside him.

            Sam nodded again, kissing Dean as he began to pump his hips, long, slow slides in and out that made Dean feel every inch of him, the flared head of Sam’s cock hitting every nerve inside that space, Dean holding tight to him as Sam fucked him, gently but not too gently, the kind of reconnecting sex that they’d done quite a bit in the past.

            Dean closed his eyes and let himself melt into Sam, starting and ending with him, wrapped up so tightly in his little brother that it was impossible to tell where one ended and the other began, moving in perfect sync, even now in the throes of lovemaking.  Sam took Dean’s hands and tangled their fingers together, pressing Dean down  a little more and holding him there, hands on either side of Dean’s head, their lips still locked together, tongues moving with Sam’s hips, Dean’s cock hard and throbbing between them.

            Sam sped up a little more, a moan punched out of Dean’s mouth every time Sam’s cock found his prostate, Dean’s toes curling as Sam hit that sweet, sweet place inside him, his nerves singing with pleasure, Sam sucking Dean’s bottom lip into his mouth, the deep pleasure-ache deep inside Dean turning more to pleasure, the tease of orgasm right at the edge of his consciousness, close enough to where if he concentrated he could get there but leaving it, instead choosing to enjoy the feeling of Sam inside him, huge and hard and perfect, just like Dean remembered.

            It could have been minutes, hours, days, Dean really didn’t care, Sam taking his time with Dean, reveling in all the sensations that his older brother’s body was making him feel, hands still locked together on the mattress.  Sam was close, his cock thickening even more as he felt the rush of orgasm, his movements speeding up more, Dean reading him like a book and tightening his legs around Sam’s waist, breaking the kiss and saying “Come for me Sammy, gonna come with you, just keep going baby, you can do it.”

            Sam came a moment late, Dean’s voice the trigger he needed, crashing his mouth to Dean’s as he spilled hot and messy inside Dean’s body, Dean coming just from Sam fucking him, thick globs of come pulsing out of him and landing on his belly, Sam’s hips stuttering as he fucked them through their orgasms, moaning so loud into Dean’s mouth that Dean could swear his teeth rattled.

            It was a long moment before Sam stopped moving, his body heaving as he tried to catch his breath.  Dean let go of Sam’s hands and put them in his hair, holding Sam close as he kissed him through the aftershocks, legs still wrapped tight around Sam’s body.

            Sam pulled out as gently as he could and rolled off of Dean, collapsing on the bed next to him, flinging an arm over Dean’s chest and sighing contentedly.  Neither of them were terribly willing to move, Dean reaching up and running his fingers along Sam’s muscled forearm, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of being fucked good and deep.  He didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until now, sated and happy.

            Dean must have dozed off because when he opened his eyes again he was cleaned up, his boxers on and tucked under the covers next to Sam, Sam laying on his side and propped up on an elbow looking at him.

            Dean turned his head and looked at his little brother, cheeks still rosy from earlier.  “Y’know, it’s kinda creepy when you do that.”

            Sam smiled, a million watts of white teeth and dimples.  “You do the same thing and you know it you jerk.”

            Dean chuckled and put his arms behind his head, still looking at Sam.  “’S cause you’re nice to look at.  Seriously you could make money with that face and body of yours Sammy.”

            Sam smiled again, shaking his head.  “Only person I share it with is you Dean.  Who knows, maybe I’ll send you a porno of myself for Christmas.

            Dean’s eyes took on a glint of desire.  “You’d do it too, wouldn’t you?”

            Sam shrugged.  “Maybe.  If you can behave and continue to be the upstanding citizen you are.”

            “Keep talking like that I won’t be the only thing upstanding.”  Dean waggled his eyebrows, proud of his own joke.

            Sam rolled his eyes.  “You try so hard Dean.  I know you’re all relaxed and comfy but… I’m hungry.  All I had was some nachos at the bar and a greasy burger’d be good right about now.”

            Dean was already out of the bed and looking for his clothes.


	2. Chapter 2

            Sam was aware of two things as he stirred awake the next morning.

            One, he was surprisingly not hung over – clearly the greasy hamburger he’d eaten for dinner had done the trick.  Two, he felt like all of the pieces of himself that had been missing were now firmly back in place, thanks to the warm weight at his back. 

            Sam didn’t care move, lest he should wake up Dean.  He closed his eyes again and settled back a little deeper against Dean’s body, Dean’s hand subconsciously pulling him a little closer.  In spite of the fact that Sam was taller and broader, he loved being the little spoon, always had, Dean’s body a rock that he knew wouldn’t fail him.  Sam looked over at the clock on his bedside table – it was nearly ten, an hour that Dean very rarely slept to.

            Except on the nights he had a mind blowing orgasm.

            Sam huffed contentedly and kissed the hand that Dean had wrapped around his chest, the skin sleep warm under his lips.  Right as he was about to fall asleep again he became aware of the fact that he really needed to relieve himself, no matter how comfortable he was with Dean wrapped like a vine around him.  As gently as he could, Sam wriggled out of Dean’s embrace and went to the bathroom, immediately regretting the decision the moment his feet hit the cold floor.  No matter, he’d be back soon enough.

            By the time Sam got back from the bathroom Dean was lying in the bed awake, propped up on the pillows and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, yawning wide as his brain defogged. His whole body ached, his thighs and calves throbbing a little.  He smiled to himself, because it meant that he’d gotten what he wanted most the night before and if he could have it his way he’d have it again soon.

            Sam gently shut the door to his room and looked at Dean.  “Morning, sleepy head.”

            Dean half-heartedly flipped him off and closed his eyes again.  “Could have told me I’d slept half the day away bitch.”

            Sam moved over to the bed, crawling up Dean’s body until he was practically nose to nose with him.  “Like you don’t appreciate the rest old man.”

            Dean’s mock was one of mock offended.  “I’m 25!  Dad’s old, not me.”

            Sam laughed, a sound that Dean heard far too seldom.  “Don’t worry, I’ll pay for your Viagra.”

            Dean growled and flipped them, pinning Sam to the bed.  “Maybe I should show you that experience comes with age.”  Dean’s tone had taken on a sudden hue of desire, his pupils widening a little.

            “Maybe you should.”  Sam’s tone was half challenge, half unabated lust, something that Dean was completely powerless to resist even if he wanted to.

            Dean pulled Sam’s head down and kissed him, Sam’s mouth immediately opening to Dean’s probing tongue, tasting faintly of toothpaste.  They’d gotten over morning breath long ago, instead choosing to enjoy the feel of each other’s bodies underneath their hands.  Dean spread his legs again, feeling the already hard line of Sam’s cock through his boxers, Sam already rocking his hips and moving against him.  Dean reached down with both hands and cupped Sam’s ass, pulling him nearly flush against his body, cocks moving against each other, the friction delicious and perfect, Sam’s arms encircled around his back, appreciating the defined muscles of Dean’s shoulders.

            Sam moved against Dean with a little more urgency, wanting to get to that place of pleasure that he liked best with his older brother, Dean arching up into his body, matching Sam move for move.  Sam pressed the kiss a little harder, Dean’s mouth wide open as if to consume Sam whole, feeling the slow build up to the peak of orgasm, his cock achingly hard, precome staining the leg of his underwear, Sam right there with him, both of them chasing that bliss that came with release.

            Dean’s back bowed up for one long moment, breaking the kiss and whispering “M’close” and Sam took one hand and reached down, giving Dean’s cock three hard strokes through his underwear and then Dean was coming, hot and messy and soaking the inside of his underwear, Sam following not a moment later, feeling the wetness of Dean’s come through his own underwear, the smell of sex filling the air as they came hard, shuddering with pleasure against each other.

            Sam collapsed down on top of Dean, burying his face in Dean’s shoulder and laughing.  “I take back the old man remark.”

            Dean licked a stripe up the side of Sam’s neck, tasting the salt that had come with sweat.  “You’re forgiven.  Got an idea earlier Sammy – you want to hear it?”

            Sam nodded, saying “You could probably get me to agree with anything at the moment.”

            Dean filed that little bit of knowledge away for later.  “Dad’s laid up in Oregon and I’m not really ready to leave you just yet, so what do you say we see go and see if Bobby wants some company.  Give him something to grumble about for a day or two aside from old cars.”

            “Like you drinking all of his good bourbon?”  Sam picked his head up and kissed Dean on the cheek.

            “Exactly.  But we don’t have to leave right this second – it’s kinda nice here, y’know?”

            Sam gave Dean another warm kiss.  “Sure.”

            Dean pulled Sam to his body once more.

.  .  .

            It was almost one o’clock before they finally got packed up and rolling, spending far more time making out against various surfaces than doing any sort of putting clothes in bags.  Not that Dean was complaining – Sam’s kisses were more than worth the wait.  They were crossing through the northern edge of Nevada, Sam’s arm thrown over the back of the seat and rubbing gently at the nape of Dean’s neck when Dean got a familiar glint in his eye.

            Dean lowered the volume of the radio and put a hand on Sam’s thigh, trying to keep his attention focused on the road in front of him.  “Remember earlier when you said I could pretty much get you to agree to anything?”

            Sam turned his gaze to Dean, licking his lips at the memory of Dean’s body pressed up against his.  “Mm-hmm.”

            Dean’s lips curled upwards in a slight grin that belied his devious intent.  “Been thinking about something an awful lot lately.  Something we haven’t done before.”

            Sam’s head tilted in curiosity.  “What’s that?”

            Dean’s hand moved closer to Sam’s crotch, Sam’s legs spreading automatically in invitation.  “Want you to blow me.”

            Sam’s brow furrowed slightly in confusion, his cock fattening in his jeans as Dean’s palm rubbed over it.  “I’ve blown you lots of times Dean – what’s so special about…. Oh you mean now.”  Sam’s face lit up as he got what Dean was hinting at.

            “And the Sasquatch gets the prize!  Road head Sammy.  Been fantasizing about that one for years.”

            “You mean you’ve never gotten it from anyone before?”  Sam was genuinely surprised, reaching over and mimicking what Dean was doing to him.

            Dean gasped, wanting to close his eyes and lean his head back as Sam cupped his cock and balls through his jeans.  “Sure haven’t.  Kinda wanted you to be the first, you know?”

            Sam unbuckled his seat belt and leaned over, mouth right against Dean’s ear.  “Just don’t drive us off the road.  I’ll take care of everything.”  Sam bit down on Dean’s earlobe, sucking the tender flesh gently into his mouth, the move taking every bit of Dean’s willpower to not drive off the road.

            Sam continued to kiss and nip gently at Dean’s neck as he reached down and got Dean’s jeans undone, pulling his thick cock out from the fly, careful to avoid the metal teeth of the zipper.  Dean spread his legs as wide as he could and threw his right arm over the back of the seat, giving Sam as much room as possible.  Sam wrapped a hand around Dean’s shaft and began to gently stroke upwards, slowly getting Dean to full hardness, the double pleasure of Sam’s now smooth palm and fingers and tongue and teeth working his earlobe making Dean go slightly cross eyed with pleasure, Sam’s own cock straining against its denim confines.

            Dean reached up and gently pressed at the back of Sam’s head, telling him he needed to get this show on the road.  Sam gave Dean’s earlobe one final tug before shifting in the seat, his long torso laid across the leather as he bent down and got between Dean’s body and the steering wheel, lips soft as he kissed the head of Dean’s cock, a dark purple-red and already dripping with precome in spite of having come twice within the last twenty four hours.  Dean never had this kind of recovery time with anyone but Sam, and the same went for Sam as well – it was as though they complemented each other’s physical needs perfectly, both ready for each other at a moment’s notice. 

            Sam’s mouth was warm as he opened his lips and took Dean halfway down, long accustomed to Dean’s girth, one hand still stroking the bottom half, stopping just past Dean’s circumcision scar, gently using just his tongue to make Dean moan, sucking just enough to where Dean could feel the pull of Sam’s mouth, resisting the urge to press down on Sam’s head and have Sam take him all the way down.  At the same time, he really didn’t want to have to explain why they ran off the road as his brother choked to the cops. 

            Dean gritted his teeth and tried to concentrate on the road, Sam’s fingers grazing over his balls as Sam moved his hand down to roll them between his fingers, gently tugging at them as he took more of Dean’s cock into his mouth, Dean’s legs shaking as Sam worked him, head bobbing up and down in Dean’s lap, Dean very thankful that there was little traffic on the road to see them. 

            Sam felt Dean’s cock get even thicker in his mouth, working up more spit as he began to suck Dean in earnest, the taste of salt on his tongue as slick poured from the end of Dean’s cock, heady and powerful, Sam reaching down and getting himself out of his jeans, stroking himself along with the movements of his head, up, down, up down, taking in as much of Dean as he could, Dean grunting out “shit” above him.

            Dean could feel it already, Sam’s tongue and mouth working magic on him, dick hard enough to cut through diamond, orgasm rushing up from his toes, Sam coaxing it out of him, humming contentedly, the vibrations from Sam’s voice rocking Dean like a tidal wave, a second later Sam did this thing with his tongue that nearly made Dean crash the car and then he was coming, Sam not missing a beat and swallowing every drop, his own climax spilling hot and messy all over his hand and jeans, Dean vaguely aware of the sound of it hitting the floorboards.

            Sam sat up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then proceeded to lick his own seed from where it had gathered on his fingers and then Dean had to look away, the site mesmerizing.  Sam offered a finger to Dean, wet with come, Dean grabbing a hold of Sam’s wrist and bringing the proffered digit to his mouth, Sam’s come tasting faintly of the fruit salad he’d had at lunch.

            Dean’s cock was still hanging out of his jeans as Sam took his hand away and tucked himself back in, using some napkins to clean himself up as best as he could, a lazy, sated smile spreading across his face.  Dean spotted a rest stop up ahead, switching lanes and pulling into it when he got there, taking a parking space far away from prying eyes.  He put the car in park and unbuckled his seatbelt, catching Sam by surprise by grabbing Sam’s face and pulling him in for a deep kiss, tasting his and Sam’s commingled come on his tongue, Sam’s brain finally coming back to life and kissing Dean back, running his fingers through the short spikes of Dean’s hair, Dean pressing so hard against him that he was sure he was going to fall out of the car.

            After another moment, Dean broke the kiss and rested his forehead against Sam’s, thumbs caressing Sam’s cheeks.  “Sammy…”

            “I know Dean.  I know.”

            Dean simply held his brother for another long moment before getting the car moving again, except this time he held Sam’s hand in the seat between them as they started to head west again.

.  .  .

            Between stopping for gas and driving in shifts it took them all of that day and through the night to get to Bobby’s, arriving mid Thanksgiving morning, Dean having called ahead to let Bobby know that they were coming.  Of course, Bobby had welcomed them right away, saying that he was planning on calling and asking if they could come.

            Dean pulled up to the old house, Sam dozing lightly in the seat next to him, head resting against the window, his sweatshirt bunched up underneath to make a pillow.  Dean took a moment to study him – how many times had they been in this exact situation before?  Sam asleep in the passenger seat, pulling up to Bobby’s house to have a safe haven for a few days, hoping to have some small degree of comfort in the tumult that was their lives.  Countless times, Dean thought.  It made him wish all the more that he could take Sam away from it all and just be with him, together, no monsters or demons or anything else bad.

            Dean reached over and brushed Sam’s cheek, Sam leaning into the touch slightly, Dean’s skin warm against his, comforting. 

            “Wake up Sammy, can’t stay here forever.”  Dean’s voice was gentle, Sam’s eyes fluttering open, Sam sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his face and looking around.

            “Already?”  Sam yawned wide, stretching his arms as much as he could in the confines of the Impala, Dean still watching him.

            “Yeah. No cops on that last stretch, could move pretty quickly.  Ready to go see what the old man’s up to?”

            Sam smiled and unbuckled his seat belt.  “Yeah.  C’mon, my ass hurts from sitting from so long.”

            Dean smirked and waggled his eyebrows.  “Sure it’s not from that truck stop back in Idaho?”

            “Okay maybe that too.” Sam smiled inwardly, remembering how Dean had dragged him into a bathroom stall and held his hand over his mouth while he fucked him quick and dirty.  A pleasant little shiver ran down his spine at the memory, opening the door and unfolding himself from the car.

            Dean bumped Sam’s shoulder as he walked past him and up the front porch steps to knock on Bobby’s door, Sam subtly reaching over and slipping a hand underneath the back of Dean’s shirt to rub at the small of Dean’s back, Dean pressing a little closer to him.

            Instead of Bobby, they got Sheriff Mills, dressed in a flour stained apron and wearing a wide smile.  “Sam! Dean!  Nice to see you boys!”  She opened the screen door and moved aside to let them in, hugging them both as they got inside, leading the way to the kitchen where Bobby was currently beating a bowl of potatoes into mashed submission and Dean could swear he saw a hair net underneath the ubiquitous trucker cap on Bobby’s head.

            Dean turned to Sam and said “Y’know, ghosts and goblins and ghouls are terrified of Bobby Singer but a bowl of potatoes won’t back down.  Thinking that maybe he’s losing his edge.”  Dean couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice, spurred further by the glare that Bobby fixed him with and soon Sam was trying to conceal his own mirth as well.

            Bobby dropped the beater into the bowl in front of him and wiped his brow.  “Well, idjit, if you think you could do any better then let’s see you beat them into submission.”  Bobby’s mock anger had disappeared as he came around the table to fold Dean into a hug, then Sam, clapping them both on the back and saying “Good to see you boys.  Was wonderin’ when you’d get here and make yourselves useful.”

            Sam let go of Bobby and stepped back into place next to Dean, resisting the urge to put his arm around Dean’s waist.  “Well Dean’s getting to be a safer driver in his advancing years.”  Sam winked at him, the morning before coming to mind.

            Dean’s gaze showed a flash of heat that disappeared just as quickly as it manifested.  Dean cleared his throat and turned his attention to Bobby.  “Say uh, Bobby – our old room clear for use?”

            Bobby spoke without looking up from his bowl of potatoes.  “Yep.  Hope you don’t mind sharing a bed though – those old twin beds were falling apart.  Jodi got an old king through a case she worked and asked if I wanted it so I chucked out those other ones and brought that one in and fixed it up.  Not that I have guests over too often but y’all are family so…” Bobby’s voice trailed off, turning back to his potatoes.

            Jody saw the look of glee that passed between Sam and Dean and looked down at the biscuits she was making, choosing to ignore whatever it was she had just seen.

            Dean cleared his throat and said “Let’s go get our bags Sammy and then we’ll come back and help finish dinner.”  Dean canted his head towards the door, Sam following a moment later, still processing the words “king sized bed.”

            Dean was waiting with the trunk open, sitting on the lip when Sam finally got outside, Dean immediately pulling him down for a kiss, tongue snaking past Sam’s lips, Sam pushing him away after a moment and saying “Not… not out here.  Later Dean, I promise.” That still didn’t stop Dean from kissing him again, breathing against Sam’s lips “Wanna ride you later.”

            It was all Sam could do to quell his erection as they made their way back to the house.

.  .  .

            Dinner was served at two, but went on until four, the four of them gathered around Bobby’s table, talking, laughing, eating – it was an all too rare and precious a moment that Dean really didn’t want to end.  He wound up sitting as close to Sam as he could without actually touching him, not wanting to let him out of his reach, intent on sticking close.  If Bobby or Jody suspected anything, neither of them said a word.  Dean tried to be subtle about looking at Sam, making sure he was happy.  The problem was it was damn hard to keep his eyes off of him, those dimples and that smile out in full force, happy for once in his life. Dean felt a rush of affection for his little brother, looking down at his plate and subtly nudging Sam’s foot with his own, Sam silently pressing back.

            After dinner was done and the plates cleared, Jody said her goodbyes and left, Bobby making a line to his favorite recliner with a glass of whiskey, turning on the TV and promptly falling asleep as the Raiders played against the Panthers, his snores drowning out the volume after five minutes.  Sam yawned too, looking wistfully towards the stairs as soon as the last of the dishes had been dried and put away. Dean saw the look in Sam’s eyes, the look that said “need some time with you.”  Dean nodded, holding a finger to his lips so that they didn’t wake Bobby as they headed for the stairs, avoiding the creaky steps.

            Dean gently shut the door to their room behind them and let Sam lead him towards the bed, taking off his shoes, careful to not trip over them as he moved, Sam’s legs connecting with the mattress as he pulled Dean down with him, turning them so that they weren’t laying on full stomachs, tugging Dean close for a kiss as soon as they were comfortable.  Dean reached up and threaded his fingers through Sam’s hair, a gentle gesture that he knew Sam loved, Sam’s hand sliding under the back of Dean’s shirts and rubbing up and down, stroking his spine, just enjoying the feel of his brother under his skin.

            They stayed like that for a long time, kissing and touching and taking time to feel each other.  Dean broke the kiss a moment later and whispered “Want to know what I’m thankful for Sammy?”

            Sam smiled and said “We don’t have to do this Dean, promise.”

            Dean turned so that he could look down at Sam, who was lying on his back.  “I want to.  I don’t say it often enough and… I want you to know.”

            Sam reached up and rubbed Dean’s cheek, Dean’s stubble rasping underneath his fingers.  “Alright then – tell me Dean, and I’ll listen.”

            Dean kissed Sam’s forehead and laid his head down on the pillow next to Sam’s head.  “When I think about it, there’s not really much that I have.  I’ve got the Impala, Dad when he’s not hell-bent on revenge or drunk, and the weapons and tools I use.  But what beats all of that, I mean all of it, is you.  I’m thankful for you Sammy.  I’m thankful that you’re my brother.  And… my uh,….”

            Sam smiled, snuggling a little closer to Dean.  “Yeah?”

            “My boyfriend.  Lover.  Just… words don’t really do it justice y’know?  Because you’re a lot more than that to me.  Always have been.”

            Sam just stared at Dean for a long moment, rubbing his thumb over Dean’s cheek, smiling.  “I love you.”

            Dean touched his forehead to Sam’s, closing his eyes, Sam’s hands on him, Dean knowing that in that moment there was absolutely nothing else in the world he wanted or needed more than his brother.

.  .  .

            They wound up taking a nap, wrapped in each other’s arms, Dean’s head coming to rest on Sam’s chest after a while, both of them warm and content.  No one disturbed them, just the two of them left alone.

            Dean woke up first, Sam’s head turned away from him, mouth slightly open as he breathed in and out, bangs floppy over his forehead.  Dean took a moment to just look at him, resisting the urge to touch Sam’s face, lest he should wake him.  As gently as he could, Dean extracted himself from Sam’s embrace, getting up from the bed and kissing Sam on the forehead, quietly moving across the floor and shutting the door behind him.

            Coming downstairs he found Bobby sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, a large, dusty book sitting in front of him, reading glasses perched on his nose.  Bobby looked up at Dean as he entered.

            “Have a good nap?”

            Dean stretched and yawned, nodding as he did so.  “Yeah.  That bed’s not too bad.  Sammy didn’t even kick me off once he got settled.”

            Bobby hummed his assent.  “So sharing it won’t be a problem for the next couple days?”

            “Nah.  Not like we haven’t before anyway I mean… sleeping in the Impala growing up and all that.”  Dean wasn’t about to say that he’d been sharing a bed with Sam _like that_ for years now.

            Bobby turned back to his coffee and book and didn’t say anything else.

            Dean looked around for a moment, spying the pumpkin spice flavoring sitting on Bobby’s counter next to the coffee pot.  He got a tall mug out of the cabinet above his head, filling it as much as he could and dumping the customary fuckton of creamer that he knew Sam liked in his coffee.  After a little sugar he sprinkled in the pumpkin spice, careful to not get it all over the counter. 

            After pouring himself a cup of plain black coffee he made his way back up the stairs, bumping the door open with his hip.  Sam was still asleep, turned away from Dean, his shirt bunched up slightly to where Dean could see the smooth skin at the bottom of his back, the waistband of his boxer shorts sticking up over his belt.  Dean crept quietly towards the bed, setting the coffee on the nightstand and coming up beside Sam, kissing neck and rubbing the side of his thigh.

            “Wake up Sammy, got something for you.” Sam half-heartedly batted at Dean to get him away, but Dean didn’t budge.  Instead he sucked Sam’s earlobe into his mouth and rubbed his crotch.

            That got Sam’s attention.

            Sam flipped Dean so fast that Dean was still registering his change of position when Sam dipped his head and kissed him hard, pressing his long body to Dean’s, Dean’s brain finally catching up with the rest of him and kissing Sam back, reaching down and squeezing Sam’s ass.

            Just as soon as he’d started Sam pulled back, straddling Dean’s waist.  “Now what did you have for me?”

            “Uh… coffee. There.”  Dean was still too busy thinking about Sam’s lips on his to be of much use at the moment.

            Sam looked to where Dean was indicating, spying the tall mug, steam curling from its top, the coffee light brown, indicating that Dean had actually taken the time to try and make it good for him.  He smiled down at Dean and reached for it, taking a sip as soon as he had it to his lips, savoring the taste.

            “Dean is there pumpkin spice in this?” 

            “Yeah, so?”

            Sam smiled again, taking another pull and closing his eyes.  It tasted delicious – Dean had gotten the balance of it just right.  Damn the fact that he was probably burning his tongue but he kept drinking until half the cup was gone, smacking his lips in approval.

            “‘S good Dean.  Really good.  Might have to show you my appreciation.”  Sam got that glint in his eye that meant Dean was about to get laid.

            “And how’re you gonna do that Sammy?”

            “Why don’t you drink up and I’ll show you.”  Sam settled back, deliberately rocking his hips and feeling Dean get hard in his jeans, swearing under his breath.  Dean drained his cup in record time, the coffee a delicious burn down his throat, hot enough to warm his insides like whiskey.

            Sam finished his own drink and leaned forward again, setting his cup aside and kissed Dean on the lips, Dean’s mouth immediately opening for Sam’s tongue, the sweet spice on Sam making Dean kiss back just a little harder, trying to get at that wonderful taste.  Dean suddenly liked pumpkin spice a lot more, reaching a hand up to lay on the back of Sam’s head, pulling him a little closer, spreading his legs a little more so that Sam could fit in between them better,

            Sam ran his hands over Dean’s body, feeling the solidness of it through Dean’s gray t-shirt, the amulet around Dean’s neck pressing into Sam’s sternum as he melded himself to his brother’s body, denim rubbing against denim, cocks getting hard, both of them already getting wet for each other.  It was like a dance they’d known all their lives, each step getting smoother and more perfect every time they came together like this.

            Dean’s hands skittered along the hem of Sam’s shirt, tugging upwards, Dean’s blunt fingernails scraping over smooth skin, familiar and perfect.  Sam obliged him by sitting up and tugging it over his head, Sam’s near flawless body bare and exposed for Dean’s greedy eyes, surging forward to lick Sam’s chest, kissing in between his pecs, moving to suck Sam’s left nipple into his mouth, tugging at it with his teeth, pain-pleasure setting Sam’s nerves alight.

            “Dean….” Sam’s mind had gone blank, Dean’s hands on his body, one down the back of his pants and cupping his ass and the other moving up and down his side, invisible contrails left by Dean’s touch, raising gooseflesh and making Sam shudder.

            Dean was on edge, the need to touch Sam overwhelming, having been denied that all day.  Yeah Bobby was downstairs but he also respected their privacy, always had.  Sam was too good to not pass up, no matter what, especially when he got like this, all needy and pliant for Dean, trying hard to stifle the moans spilling from his lips.

            Dean bit down on Sam a little harder, Sam’s head tossing back, the veins and sinews of his neck standing out, Dean feeling his cock hard against his stomach, tenting out his jeans.  There was no hiding the fact that Sam was hung and Dean loved it, loved it when Sam used that huge cock on him and right now that was what he wanted more than anything.

            Dean let go of Sam and pulled Sam’s head down again, saying low and rough against his lips “Want you use your tongue on me, get me nice and loose for you.  Then I wanna ride you baby, want to feel that big fucking cock in me, make me come on it.  Can you do that Sammy?”

            Goaded by Dean’s words, Sam climbed out of Dean’s lap, flipping Dean onto his stomach with a growl, tugging at Dean’s jeans.  Dean let Sam pull them down, taking his underwear with them, not even getting to unbuckle his belt so desperate was he to have Sam’s tongue in him.  Sam flung them to the floor as soon as got them off of him, taking off Dean’s socks and pulling back on his hips, raising Dean up so that he was bent forward, Dean’s hole a pretty pink pucker just waiting to be teased open.

            Dean braced himself for the feel of Sam’s tongue on him, knowing that it was going to be hard to keep quiet as soon as he had Sam on him like that, closing his eyes and relaxing his breath.  Sam took his time, kissing Dean’s lower back and down his thighs, trying to raise dean’s awareness of how close he was to him even more, Dean’s skin on fire by the time Sam was done, his body shaking with anticipation, the words _want_ and _need_ playing over and over again in his mind.

            “C’mon Sammy, need you.  Need my sweet boy to get me good and wet.”  Dean wasn’t sure where that particular term had come from but right now he didn’t care – he was too drunk on lust and Sam’s touch to bother thinking about it too much. 

            Apparently that did the trick because all of a sudden Sam was _in_ him – long, wet tongue teasing at his most intimate space, Dean smashing his face into the pillow and moaning, glad he’d thought to lock the door when he’d come in, Sam’s enormous hands on his ass and holding him open, feeling deliciously exposed.  Sam didn’t hold back either, getting Dean sopping wet, dark musky taste not causing him to pause in the slightest, if anything wanting more of it. 

            Sam felt his cock leaking in his underwear, not taking his face away from Dean’s body as he reached down and undid his jeans, shoving them down as far as he could, his cock springing free, head shiny-wet with precome.  Sam stripped his cock with his right hand and put the other back on Dean, tongue getting at the softer skin inside Dean, Dean’s cock and balls hanging heavy in between his spread legs.

            Dean could feel his balls retract and lower in time with his throbbing cock, precome leaking onto the blankets underneath him.  He could get off on this, just this, Sam’s tongue taking him apart and putting him back together again in the same motion, had come from just this before, always wondering how Sam had gotten so damn good at it, trying not to think about it too much.

            Sam finally decided that Dean had had enough and got off the bed, finishing stripping himself, going to his bag and digging for the lube. It was right in the side pocket, where it was supposed to be, noticing that the bottle was almost empty, just enough for one more go round before it had to be tossed. Getting back on the bed (Dean’s shirt now gone) he pulled Dean in for another kiss as he finished prepping him with his fingers, one, two, three in quick succession, the stretch and burn too good to be true, Dean moaning softly into Sam’s mouth as the long digits crooked and found Dean’s swollen prostate, Sam pressing into it mercilessly, Dean’s hips bucking up and seeking friction that wasn’t there, Sam playing him like a virtuoso at the keyboard.

            “Ready for me Dean?”  Sam’s voice was lust-rough, gravelly.

            “Yeah, yeah baby.  C’mon, wanna ride you now.”  Sam gave him another kiss and flipped them again, the mattress mercifully silent as Dean got into position, lowering himself onto Sam’s cock in one long go, tossing his head back and biting on his bottom lip as he filled himself with Sam, Sam’s hands gripping his hips and keeping him steady, Dean taking him in until Sam was completely buried inside him, thighs quivering as he held himself up.

            It was a long moment before Dean started to move, his hole stretched wide and tears in his eyes as he felt Sam’s cock bump against his sweet spot, chest heaving as he drew in deep breaths.  Sam was slack jawed, Dean tight and hot as a furnace around him, staring up at his beautiful brother, a little disbelieving that he got to call Dean his and that they did this, this beautiful, intimate thing that had always felt so right between them.

            Dean held a finger up to his lips as he felt himself finally get more adjusted to Sam, Sam nodding in understanding as he began to rock and circle his hips, Sam’s hands gripping and squeezing him, Dean’s cock hard as a rock and moving with his body, looking into Sam’s eyes as he rode him, sucking on his bottom lip, mouthing “love you” at Sam, Sam’s mouth open and that pretty pink tongue licking his lips, trying to keep his moans quiet, Dean completely in control of the situation, expert in all things Sam.

            Sam was surprised at how long Dean managed to keep at it, hips rolling, rocking, bouncing up and down on Sam, all the while doing a stellar job of staying quiet.  Sam reached up and tugged on Dean’s cock, motions slow and deliberate, just like Dean was riding him, eyes locked with each other, orgasms building building building building, both of them so very, very close that it was maddening, Sam jacking Dean a little bit faster, Dean’s hips speeding up, desperate to come now, Sam’s eyes begging, pleading and all it took was one more twist of his hips and Sam exploded, teeth clinched as he shuddered, cock white-hot inside Dean, hips fucking up involuntarily, Dean following a second later, soaking Sam’s torso and hand in come, thick white spurts contrasting against the tan of Sam’s skin, pooling and running in rivulets in between the sharp lines of Sam’s abs, bleachy smell filling the air, both of them mindless save for pleasure, reveling in the shared bliss.

            Dean collapsed down onto Sam, thighs finally giving out, bracing a hand on either side of Sam’s body, amulet hanging heavy around his neck, both of them breathing hard.  Sam closed his eyes, body painted with come and sweat.  Dean couldn’t resist running a finger through the mess and bringing it to Sam’s lips, cock twitching as Sam sucked the digit into his mouth and slurping on it greedily, holding Dean’s wrist still until it was completely clean.

            “Better now Sammy?” Dean asked after they’d gotten cleaned up and were laying side by side, naked under the covers, Dean’s body tucked back against Sam’s,

            “More than better.  ‘M gonna miss this Dean.”  Sam pressed a gentle kiss to Dean’s temple, Dean snuggling a little closer.

            “I know baby, I know.  But I promise I’ll come around again soon.  You think I don’t miss it too?”

            “I know you do Dean.  But I do have Christmas break in a couple weeks…”

            Dean turned his head and smiled.  “That so?”

            “Yep.  A whole month too.  Figure I could come with you, take on a couple cases, make some noise in every motel we stay in.  What do you say?”

            Dean’s warm kiss was the only answer he needed.  


End file.
